Death Of A Succubus
by BellatrixLestrangey
Summary: Goretober Day 2; Demonic Emma finds herself seduced by a succubus that is slowly draining her life force away.


Emma's nights are filled with visions of leathery wings and horns like black tourmaline. They are filled with waves of overwhelming desire and immense pleasure. With hands running up and down her body leaving her hot all over.

Her days are filled with numbness and a terrible lack of energy. She can barely pull herself up and out of bed, much less deal with all of the mayor's demands. As per usual, the woman is being a hardass.

"Look, I haven't been sleeping well lately."

"I can imagine."

Emma follows Regina's gaze from her tousled hair to her hastily (and incorrectly) buttoned shirt. "Okay, no. It's not what it looks like." At this Regina quirked a skeptical brow. "Even if it is, it's none of you business."

"It is when your...late nights being to waste tax dollars."

Emma rubbed the bridge of her nose. She didn't need this, not now. Not when she was already feeling tired and agitated. "Haven't you ever had sleeping trouble?" Looking at her, Emma knows the answer. Regina is as immaculate as ever. If anything, the woman seems to radiate more energy than before. "Nevermind...just…"

"Just get back to your job, Swan. You're not being paid to sleep."

Her days are unkind and lackluster in comparison to the euphoria her visitor brings.

It is for this, that Emma welcomes the night back.

**.oOo.**

Emma slips into her night clothes, having noticed a pattern, she picks out something that she hasn't worn since Neal. She tucks herself into bed in a pair of red lace panties and a bra that doesn't leave much to the imagination.

She is thankful that Regina hasn't noticed that she has checked back into Granny's. But what choice does she have. Her night endeavours have made for awkward conversations with Mary the following mornings. Mary who was too respectful and too pure to admit that she knows exactly what Emma has been filling her nights with.

A figure appears on the window sill, voluptuous and tantalizing, and Emma knows that she will fill this night in the same way. She already feels a familiar warm tingle and the woman hasn't even entered yet. She sees the flick of a forked tail and the folding of wings before the window is pushed open.

Emma smiles and motions of the woman to join her in bed.

The woman takes a seat at the foot of the bed, her face is shrouded by shadows that ought not to be there at all. As always, she cocks her head slightly and tucks her hair behind her ear before leaning over and running her tongue over Emma's lips.

**.oOo.**

She is just going through the motions of daily life. Living only for the nighttime encounters, everything else seems pointless. It is her day off and she rummages her way up and down the grocery store aisles. But it all looks bland to her. She knows it will all taste bland in comparison to the woman's lips. The cherry pie in her hand isn't the one she wants to eat. She drops the food into her cart anyhow.

She must look like absolute shit, tired eyes and downright messy hair, because Regina doesn't make any snide remarks as she walks by. In fact, the mayor almost looked sympathetic. She cringes.

Has she really gotten that bad?

She watches the mayor make her way to the end of the aisle, the sound of her heels clacking penetrates the silence. "Madame mayor?"

To Emma's surprise the woman halts. "What?" She cocks her head and tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear.

Emma finds that she has nothing to say. She realizes that she doesn't know why she has called out at all.

Regina rolls her eyes and carries on with her stride.

**.oOo.**

She tries harder to get a look at the woman's face; though the shadows are no longer present, the woman wears a hood and a mask. Emma can see the double bulge of her horns beneath the hood. The mask is a haunting thing, deep black in color and coated in rubies, it depicts the face of a weeping angel. The rubies portray the trail of tears that run down the cheeks of the mask.

Emma doesn't dwell too much on that, her eyes lower to the woman's bare chest. The only clothing that dresses her body is a sheer scrap of bright red fabric draped around her waist. Emma doesn't let it remain in place for very long.

She can picture the woman smugly smiling beneath that mask.

She knows that she shouldn't, but slips her hands around the woman's waist and pulls her onto the mattress. She knows that she should push the woman away, she get the sense that the woman would retreat if Emma demanded it of her. But, heaven help her, she wants this so badly.

The woman makes quick work of her; she already knows the right spots to touch and the right words to murmur.

Emma feels the woman's tongue on her chest. She feels herself growing weaker and weaker the lower and lower the woman's hands roam. It is as though the woman is licking the energy clean off of her.

And yet she is in a state of pure and unabashed bliss. A drunk smile spreads across her face. The unrelenting euphoria chases out the realization that she is growing dependant upon this stranger.

**.oOo.**

Day time has completely lost meaning. She is too tired to leave the hotel room and even if she weren't, she would remain in bed anyhow. She doesn't see the point lugging herself off to work. It never shuts Regina up when she does, the woman always finds something to complain about.

By mid-afternoon it strikes her that she hasn't seen Henry in at least two weeks. For once it is not the mayor's fault. The dread she should have been feeling all along takes over. Just what the hell is she doing? Henry needs her!

She fully intended on leaving the hotel room, but she doesn't even make it halfway across the room before her legs buckle. Her body feels so heavy and sluggish. She struggles to push forward.

When she does leave the hotel room, she debates going to the hospital instead of to the mayor's place. Her feet have her on the porch of Regina's mansion. It looms imposingly before her. She knocks upon the door, knowing very well that she doesn't have the mental strength to fight Regina.

She has less mental strength to comprehend the sympathetic look that the woman gives her before letting her inside.

"Henry is in school, Emma. You know that. But…"

Her voice seems distant.

**.oOo. **

When she awakens she is in the hotel room. She breathes a sigh of relief knowing that she'd at least have another steamy and passionate night for her troubles. Her breath catches in her throat because she knows that this night, if not, then the next, will sap her dry.

But, goodness does she crave the woman's passion, however false it is.

She hears the flap of retracting wings and closes her eyes. She'll let the being take her for the last time. She doesn't give any protest, in fact she coaxes the woman to her bed as she does every night.

And they begin.

This night is somehow gentler. The woman doesn't seem to feast on her energy, not as much of it anyhow. Maybe she is trying to prolong Emma's use...or her suffering. Either which way, Emma still welcomes it.

Perhaps more so now that the woman isn't being so rough.

Absently, Emma strokes the woman's masked cheek with one hand and curls the other in her hair. Clumsy fingers unwittingly unravel a knot and the mask falls away. It falls to the floor with a soft thud.

She finally sees a face.

**.oOo.**

Nights slip by and they are horrible at first, because the woman no longer visits. She tries summoning her through cheesy ritual and by simply calling her name into the night. Still, the woman doesn't come.

She is anxious and shaky, she hasn't gotten her fix of the woman's brand of ecstasy. The absence is too much after having lived for it and only it for so long.

Days turn into weeks and the cravings subside. She sheds the desire like she is shrugging off a heavy gossamer cloak.

She begins to feel alive again and wonders how she had ever let her life slip away from her like that.

It is little more than a dream now that she has patched things up with Mary-a quick, and not strictly untrue, story about a depressive episode. Emma can't even imagine letting herself slip like that again, especially as she walks Henry to school and catches up with him. Apparently his art teacher says that he makes a mean ceramic coffee mug. With Henry and Mary and Ruby she hardly thinks of the sex that had fueled her. It is just a beautiful nightmare that had come to pass. The kind that she only recalls when a certain stimuli beckons the memory forward.

She passes Regina on the sidewalk.

Regina who has seen better days.

Regina who looks like she is going to fade at any moment.

And she remembers the nightmare with potent clarity.

She meets Regina's eyes. Tries to anyways, the woman averts her gaze.

Emma almost feels bad, the woman can't exactly help what she is.

No, that's not strictly true.

Emma knows that Regina is all too aware of her own nature. Of her own needs. Yet she rejects it. She rejects her nature and neglects her needs. Emma's stomach knots, she can't fathom what has inspired the succubus to put Emma before herself. Has she actually taken up some sort of moral code? She has to check. "Why don't you just take someone else's energy? Whale would be an easy target."

Regina doesn't look up. "I don't want to do that anymore…" She pauses. "I don't want to be this anymore..."

Emma nods. Somehow she knows that the woman would rather let herself grow weaker and weaker until she could no longer wake, than carry on with the role life has bestowed upon her. Emma realizes that she doesn't want the mayor to die.

"Can't you just take little bits of energy at a time?"

Regina shrugs. "I suppose that if I had a lover, I could…" She stuffs her hands into her pockets, still not making eye contact.

Emma offers a warm smile. "You aren't bad in bed."

The woman's cheeks color. Apparently Regina has made just as clear a separation between her daytime and nighttime self as Emma had.

"What are you trying to say?"

"That I wouldn't mind another night if you could maybe take only a little energy at a time."

Regina blinks. "You want that?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have let you seduce me on that first night." Emma smirks.

Regina's face flushes pink again.

"Not in succubus mode yet?"

The pink deepens to red. "No, I'm not."

"Will you be in succubus mode tonight?" Emma asks.

"Perhaps I will be."


End file.
